


Fascination

by RufusThePup



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Dry Humping, Fist Fights, M/M, Regret, Stalking Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 17:29:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4488336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RufusThePup/pseuds/RufusThePup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Locus can't stop thinking about Agent Washington. Felix won't stop teasing him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fascination

**Author's Note:**

> GOD, THIS TOOK FOREVER.

Watching Agent Washington had become a hobby for him. 

He was drawn in to the peculiarities of the other soldier almost immediately. It was the closest he had ever allowed himself to deviating from their primary objective. 

Locus wasn't one to do as he pleased if he had something to be working towards. Felix did it regularly. Not enough to ever compromise the mission, but... he came awfully close sometimes. And since day one had been encouraging Locus to do the same—to loosen up, to have some fun. 

And now that he was, Felix would never let him live it down. 

“You like him.”

“Quiet.” 

“You totally do.”

“Felix—”

“If you could have him for a day, all to yourself, with no repercussions, what would you do?”

Locus went silent. He lowered the sniper rifle and stared into the distance, seriously considering it. Felix's smug grin in his peripheral made it slightly difficult. 

“If I could have him, I'd—”

“I don't want to _know_ what you'd do, Felix. I can probably guess.” 

A chuckle. “Think you know me that well, huh?”

“Well enough to know that it's something filthy and deplorable.”

“Yeah, 'cause you're such a fuckin' saint. You're just as bad as me, and you fuckin' _know it._ ”

...Well, he wasn't wrong. 

-

After keeping an eye on him for so long, Locus was able to pick up patterns in the way Wash acted. 

Washington ate very little. Just enough to keep hunger pains at bay. Sometimes he forgot to do it altogether, only reminded of it when his teammates insisted he joined them for a meal. 

He slept even less. On the nights when he was too anxious to even lie still, he'd go out running. Doing laps around the base and jogging back and forth through the canyon. Sometimes this continued for over an hour before he'd slow down. By that point he wore himself out enough to make sleeping a possibility, often times collapsing on his sheets while sweaty and still in his workout clothes. 

Even then, he never slept through an entire night. Barely slept a few hours. 

Locus could relate to that. 

Although, nowadays, his lack of sleep was mostly due to Wash. He camped out around Blue base more frequently to get an idea of Wash's more personal habits. Felix taunted him for it. 

“Didja ask him out yet?” he teased. 

“Shut up. I've told you, I'm gathering intel.”

“Yeah? Give ya' fifty bucks if you can tell me one thing about _anyone else_ in that canyon.”

There was a long pause. Felix burst out laughing. Locus hit him with the butt of his rifle.

-

_What luck._

He knew that the Reds and Blues would be split up; it was planned from the start. He just never expected Wash to end up on his side with the Feds. 

If Felix could see how he acted around Wash, he would've been laughing. 

He still showed up on radio nonetheless, and continually taunted Locus. 

“This is your big chance, buddy.” 

“Felix, I told you—I don't want to talk while we're separated. Someone could overhear.” 

“And _I_ told _you_ , if you don't talk to me, then I'm gonna fuckin' snap. These Rebels are the most whiny sonsabitches ever.” 

Locus' eye roll was almost audible. 

“Have you talked to him yet?” Felix prodded. 

“...Not really.” 

“That's not a yes or a no.”

“I gave him the tracker. That was it.” 

“No pick-up lines or anything?”

“Felix—” the irritation in his voice was growing. 

“Either way,” Felix ignores the threatening tone, “he's not gonna stick around much longer.”

“...What?”

“He's got what he wants—his men. What's gonna stop him from leaving and trying to find the others?” 

Locus pauses to let the words sink in. 

There really is nothing stopping Wash from going off and tracking down the rest of his team. If he wants to get something from him...

“It's now or never.” 

...He hates when Felix is right. 

-

It’s rather surprising how compliant Wash is when asked to train. Not necessarily because of the training aspect, more so the fact that he's willing to train with _Locus_ after making his disdain for him abundantly clear. 

Maybe he figures it'll be a good outlet. Locus thinks the same thing. 

All things considered, Locus isn't in his best mindset currently. And he hates it. He hates his mind being clouded with thoughts about Washington. It's horribly distracting, and he can't afford to be distracted. Not now, not ever. 

Wash doesn't say anything as they walk to opposite ends of the room. He hasn't said a word to Locus since he handed over the chip to the Mantis droid. 

Locus hates how much it unnerves him. 

The fight is nothing but fists. Both men are still in their armor, and the punches come out powerful. Locus is merely blocking, mind still preoccupied with Felix's words. 

_he's not gonna stick around much longer_

He's going to leave. 

_what's gonna stop him_

Nothing can stop him. 

_**It's now or never.**_

Locus only realizes how inattentive he's been when the back of his head knocks against the floor. Wash towers over him, and Locus doesn't need to see his face to know he's unimpressed. 

He crawls to his feet in a rather undignified manner, right as Wash is turning to him and raising his fists. 

_now or never_

Locus throws his first punch, Wash easily strafes to avoid it. The second punch lands, hitting Wash in the forearm as he blocks. The next swing hooks around and lands on Wash's helmet. He briefly loses his footing, his blocking stance falling apart slightly, but enough for Locus to catch him off guard. 

He grabs Wash's arms and takes a step forward, using his weight to knock Wash back and send them both tumbling. Wash lands hard, and ends up disoriented enough to give Locus an opportunity to pin his arms and straddle his waist. 

Wash huffs as he regains his breath, clearly annoyed and about to lash out. 

Until his helmet is removed. 

He makes an indignant noise and struggles. With one arm free he can easily knock the other man off or even flip their positioning—

Locus removes his own helmet. 

Wash's thrashing dies down, and he's left staring at Locus dead on. Dark skin, strikingly bright green eyes, hair pulled back into a ponytail with a few strays curls hanging in his face. Not at all how Wash imagined him. 

...He's staring for a few seconds, but it's far too long for Locus, who almost seems to be embarrassed by it. In a rather impulsive move he leans in and presses their lips together. Wash tenses up in surprise, unresponsive until Locus moves to pull away. 

Then he starts to kiss back. 

Their lips moving together was subtle and shy enough to show that they were both a little cautious of what exactly they were doing. Wash, his arms now free, moves to wrap one around Locus' neck. Locus seems apprehensive of the movement, but his posture relaxes enough to show that _yes, this is okay._

Wash gasps and breaks the kiss when he feels a bare hand suddenly stroke down his cheek. He calms upon realizing that Locus has taken off his gloves, and calms enough to let those hands comb through his hair and caress down his neck. 

A finger is tucked under the neck of Wash's suit, tugging it down and exposing freckled flesh. Locus slowly kisses down his neck, tongue flicking out and tracing along his adam's apple. 

His chin bumps into Wash's breastplate and he pulls back, seeming annoyed. 

“Take off your armor.” 

Wash gapes at him momentarily, rather taken aback by how different he sounds without the excessive filtering his helmet provides. He notices Locus casually taking off pieces of his own, and fumbles to do the same, removing his breastplate, codpiece, and the armor on his upper thighs. 

“That's enough...” Locus mumbles and grabs his hands to stop him. In one swift movement he moves to straddle Wash's thigh and rocks his hips. The deep groan rumbling in his throat was mirrored by Wash's own higher-pitched one. 

The two slowly found a rhythm, grinding down on each other's legs and occasionally pausing to readjust to a more comfortable angle. The undersuits they both wore were constricting, but still allowed for enough friction to be satisfying without being painful. 

Wash grabs onto Locus' shoulders to steady himself, his hips lifting off the ground and rolling in a way that makes Locus shiver. In a moment of desperation Wash grabs at Locus' hair, having now fallen loose and draping over his shoulders, and tugged the curls in his fist, making Locus hiss. 

It's with a sudden cry that Wash cums. His body goes rigid, legs clenching around Locus' thigh, eyes clenched shut and head thrown back with a moan dying on his lips. He's left shuddering as his orgasm intensifies and slowly dissipates. 

Locus feels his face _burning_ just from having witnessed him falling apart. His actions become more frantic as he strives to reach his own, and slowly but harshly continues to grind himself down until he cums much more subtly, only given away by the cracks in his stern expression and heavy breathing. 

As the afterglow settles around them and the ache in their muscles starts to become apparent, Locus finds himself left feeling strangely unfulfilled. The craving inside him to figure out Agent Washington isn't at all satisfied, and he's left with an underlying shame at having given in to the desires of his body. 

This... wasn't what he wanted. 

-

“So how'd it go?” 

“I don't want to talk about it.” 

“Shut up—yes you do.” 

...Okay, he definitely does. But not with Felix. Felix only wants to know about the sex. 

Felix gets fed up with his silence and groans. “You're overthinking it. I don't know _why_ you're still hung up on the guy after fucking him. But you need to get over it.” 

Though Locus was reluctant to take his advice (it only ever seemed to humiliate and confuse anyone who wasn't Felix), this was another instance where he knew that Felix was right. 

...But that didn't mean he was going to listen. Agent Washington was an enigma to his mind, one that he couldn't get over, and one that he wasn't going to forget any time soon.

**Author's Note:**

> hippocratessocrates(.)tumblr


End file.
